


The Cure For Stress-Induced Insomnia Isn't Melatonin, It's Emotional Vulnerability

by MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)



Series: Jam Bud Week [3]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Jam Bud Week 2020, Literal Sleeping Together, Panic Attacks, Sleepovers, Tea, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz
Summary: Connie can't sleep, and Steven is recruited to remedy the situation.Takes place during Steven Universe Future, but before Snow Day. Written for Jam Bud Week, Day 3: Sleep.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran & Doug Maheswaran & Priyanka Maheswaran, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Doug Maheswaran & Priyanka Maheswaran & Steven Universe
Series: Jam Bud Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622275
Comments: 36
Kudos: 166





	The Cure For Stress-Induced Insomnia Isn't Melatonin, It's Emotional Vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> me: gets the idea for this prompt at like 12:30am  
> me: well i guess i'm writing for today lmao!!
> 
> Big shoutout to [@AlmondMilkandDaisies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondMilkAndDaisies/pseuds/AlmondMilkAndDaisies) for beta-ing!

Connie has not slept.

She knows it’s stress. She’s got a test coming up in AP Algebra II that’s worth forty percent of her grade this semester. WHAP has one later in the week. She has an essay due in AP Lit that she has not started, and she’s at her breaking point.

So of course now she’s an insomniac.

And it starts with her lying in bed, eyes shut, unable to fall asleep as her academic anxieties compound. They start soft and quiet, but the more she tries to shut them out, the louder and louder they become, until they almost deafen her, overflowing, nauseating.

So sleep doesn’t work anymore. She still tries, of course. She’s seen the statistics that prove a good night’s sleep improves your ability to focus and retain information. But when she feels the anxieties come, she doesn’t fight them anymore. She gets out of bed and decides to do something about it. She cracks open her textbook and her notes and gets out a highlighter.

Mom notices, because that’s just what moms do. At first it’s a small comment when Connie comes down the stairs one morning. “Not sleeping well?” she asks, and Connie realizes the dark circles appearing under her eyes are a dead giveaway. She uses some of her mom’s concealer to cover it, not having any herself — not because she isn’t allowed any, but because she hasn’t had any interest until now.

Of course Mom notices that, too.

Then, one night past midnight, there’s a knock at Connie’s door. She looks up from her desk, startled, heart racing, and she prays for a moment that whoever’s there will go away. But then comes another knock, and her desk lamp is on, so she reluctantly calls, “Come in.”

It’s Dad, still in his work clothes. Probably just got back from a late shift. He raises an eyebrow at her and says, “Hey, kiddo. Don’t you have school tomorrow?” And even though his voice is soft and his eyes worried, she panics.

“Uh, yeah, I just… got a story idea in the middle of the night, and had to write it down. Dreams, right?”

Never mind the fact that she has not been able to write creatively in months, or that her textbook is still open. He seems to notice it, but he can also tell when he’s being told not to ask questions. So he smiles and says, “Okay. Get to bed soon, all right? You younguns need your rest.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She smiles back, but when he shuts the door she feels tears in her eyes.

The AP Lit essay is her first C. She writes it entirely during one of her sleepless episodes, and despite the hours of proofreading, when the teacher hands it to her there is a look of concern on her face.

“Connie, are you doing all right?”

“I’m fine!” Connie snaps, clutching the paper so tightly it crinkles. “I just… I just didn’t understand much of the text. I’ll do better next time.”

She misses missions. There was something so nice and simple about going on an adventure with a single purpose, with her closest friend by her side, knowing they could rely on each other. There was no grading system beyond a pass/fail metric. You either completed your goal or you didn’t.

But she’s only got enough room in her brain to miss one thing right now, and that’s Steven. She just doesn’t have the time to text him.

* * *

Steven gets a strange phone call from Connie’s mom. She never calls him, ever, but when it rings in the middle of Little Homeschool, he reluctantly steps away in order to take it.

“Hi, Steven. I’m sorry to interrupt your day, but have you spoken to Connie recently?”

Steven blinks. “Uh… no. I think we’ve both been pretty busy. Why? What’s up?”

Priyanka sighs. “She hasn’t been sleeping very well, and I suggested medication, but she refuses to admit there’s anything wrong at all. I know the two of you are close. I was hoping maybe you could talk to her and… I don’t know. I’m not asking you to fix it, just… maybe try to get her to consider asking for help.”

Steven glances over his office. He thinks about all of the schedules for incoming students he has to approve. He thinks about how Lapis suggested a new class, and they’re still pending curriculum. He thinks about all the paperwork he has to submit to ensure they’re funded.

He thinks about Connie, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He thinks about Connie pushing herself the way he’s pushing.

He thinks about Connie needing him.

“I’ll be there tonight. What time?”

* * *

Steven gets there before Connie gets home from Academic Decathlon. He’s not sure what exactly that is, but it sounds like something that would be right up her alley.

With Priyanka at work, it’s just Doug and Steven, so Doug makes him a cup of tea. Steven’s grin is giant and dorky as Doug sets the cup in his hands. “I have no idea how you guys make it, but you always have the _best_ tea,” he murmurs before he takes a sip.

Doug laughs and blushes, scratching his nose. “Heh. Thanks. I learned to make this for Priyanka when she was studying for her MCATs. Took me forever to get it just right and it drove her nuts, but I think she appreciated the sentiment.”

Steven looks down at the cup in his hands and gets an idea.

* * *

Steven looks up as the front door opens. In comes Connie wearing a really cute patterned blouse, and before the door is even shut, her eyes are on him.

Heh. Maybe he should’ve texted her.

“Steven,” she greets, surprise coloring her voice. “Uh, hi. What’re you doing here?”

The bags under her eyes probably mirror his own. But he can absolutely tell she’s lost some weight, and it’s probably not from dropping meat from her diet.

“Hey,” he says with a smile. Doug has gone to bed already, claiming an early shift. “I can’t just swing by to say hi to my favorite girl?”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You could’ve texted me. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sit for a minute, Connie.” He pats the spot on the couch next to him before he hops to his feet. “I’ve got something in the kitchen, but it’s gonna take a few minutes to fix. Can you wait here for me while I do that?”

Connie blinks, slowly sitting exactly where he indicated. “Uh… sure. Do… you need any help?”

“Nope!” 

It takes Steven more than a few minutes, but he does it exactly as Doug showed him. He considered brewing it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be hot and fresh for her. And maybe, if he was somehow really lucky, she’d actually fall asleep while waiting for him.

She doesn’t. Actually, she’s started reading a book from her backpack. But when he comes out with the teacups on a cute little tray, she looks at him like he’s growing broccoli from his ears. “Wh...what?”

“Why are you making me _tea?”_

“I can’t want to make tea for you?”

“Hold on.” Connie sets the book in her lap, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose like she’s fighting an oncoming headache. “Steven, this is weird. What did my parents tell you?”

For a moment, he considers lying. He considers saying that he’s really doing all of this just because he felt like it. And while there’s some truth to that, it also isn’t very honest. So he sighs and sits back down next to her. “They told me you were having trouble sleeping. I just wanted to help.”

“Hmm.” 

He doesn’t know what to think of that little grunt. But she takes the tea, and that makes him smile. “Any reason?”

It’s her turn to sigh. Her head rests against the back of the couch. “I’m just stressed, that’s all. I’m sorry they asked you to come out all this way.”

“They didn’t,” he says quickly. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “No, seriously. I mean, your mom only mentioned she wanted me to talk to you! I could’ve done that over the phone, but instead I just… I really wanted to see you.”

That gets a more genuine smile out of her. “Well, all right. In that case, I guess I can allow it.” She takes a small sip of her tea. 

He stares, anticipation lining the walls of his stomach as he waits for her judgment.

“Not bad for your first try,” she says with a laugh, and his heart jumps into his throat. _Wow, she’s gorgeous._ “You really learned how to make this just for me?”

“Well, _yeah!”_ He gives her a small nudge, careful not to spill either cup. “I was worried. What’re you stressed about? School?”

She takes another sip, a longer one. Steven tries to fill the silence by drinking his own tea, but when he sticks his pinky out, it makes her laugh again. She looks more relaxed already.

“Yeah, school.” She holds the cup in her lap, staring off at the wall across from them. “I’m really worried about grades. I’ve got five AP classes, and I’m first chair violin, and I’m involved with AcDec. It’s a lot right now.”

“Why don’t you just take something off your plate?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why doesn’t it?”

Connie shrugs. “It just doesn’t. We’re midway through the semester, I can’t just quit any of these things. It’s too late. I made my bed, now I have to lie in it.”

His brow furrows. Steven takes another slow sip as he tries to find a solution. “Well, what if—”

“Hey.” She’s set her hand on his arm, and he blinks. He’s staring at it, trying to catch up with the fact she’s touching him. When he looks up, he sees her eyes watering just a little. “Don’t try to solve this. Instead, just let me vent.”

What? He stares at her. Should he really just let her vent? But there’s got to be a way to fix this. She’s so stressed she can hardly sleep! There’s _got_ to be a way to lower her stress levels—

“I can’t vent to Mom, because she’ll just tell me to apply myself, and I can’t vent to Dad, because he’ll sit down with her and try to fix this, and they’ll figure something out without even asking me what _I_ want.”

It still doesn’t feel quite right. He thinks her judgment of her parents is harsh, and seems more in line with the Priyanka and Doug of a few years ago. But Steven forces down his own discomfort. If this is how Connie says he can help, then obviously, he should default to her, right?

“All right, then. Vent at me. I can take it.”

The relief on her face is so intense, he almost cries.

* * *

When they run out of tea, Connie brews a second batch. It’s nearing ten, which means her mom will be home soon. 

“Wanna go up to my room?”

Steven’s brain short-circuits. Connie rolls her eyes with the tray in her hands. “Dummy. I’m getting tired. Grab my backpack and let’s go chill up there for a bit.”

“Uh, okay.”

The second batch goes fast. It’s delicious, and sitting at her desk while she lays on her bed has Steven soft and warm. Over the course of nearly half an hour, Connie’s changed into her pajamas, which Steven hasn’t seen in a while. A loose-fitting t-shirt and bottoms that are plaid patterned, he feels himself fantasizing, feels himself blushing, and knows he should probably get going.

“You know what might really help me sleep?”

“What?”

Connie waggled her eyebrows. “You could crawl in here with me.”

That blush? Back with a vengeance. His face turns the darkest of reds, and Connie giggles. At least she’s blushing, too. “C’mon. I’ll set my alarm early so you can be gone before my mom wakes up.”

It’s so naughty. It’s so _rebellious._

He giggles a little. “Do… you have anything I could wear instead of jeans to bed?”

“Huh? Oh.” She hums and taps her chin. “Actually, my dad has some old PJ pants he never uses. Wait here.”

She fetches them, and he changes while she turns her back. It’s a little weird, wearing her dad’s clothing, but it’s a small sacrifice if it means he gets to spend the night here with her.

* * *

“What’s up with you?”

Steven blinks. This close, curled up with her in her bed, legs entangled and an arm wrapped around her, he’d almost drifted off. Wow. He’s got school in the morning, too. “Huh?”

“You just seem…” Connie trails off for a moment, and then laughs. “Stressed? Geez. Sorry to monopolize the venting space.”

“No no no no no,” Steven assures as quick as he can, almost cutting her off. He holds her a little tighter, presses his face into the back of her neck. “Please, I’m glad we did this. I’m glad you were able to feel a little better. This helped.”

She pulls away and he panics. He tightens his grip around her and pulls her in closer. “Wait, please, I’m sorry—”

“For _what?”_ Connie almost sounds like she’s snapping, and he squeezes his eyes shut as she twists in his arms to face him. “Steven—”

Her hands hold his face, and he lets go of her, throwing himself backward and off the bed as panic seizes in his chest. He lands on his back and when he gets to his feet, Connie is already on hers. She doesn’t reach to touch him again, but her palms extend like she’s calming a wild animal. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Steven, what’s going on with you?”

“I don’t—” His voice gets caught high in his throat, tight. He fists his hands and stares down at the ground, freezing like a deer. “I don’t… want to talk about it.”

What is he doing? This was going so _well._ He helped Connie by giving her a place to vent, and he really appreciated being able to do that. She was going to get to sleep, and maybe he was, too. But then she spun the tables on him, and that’s just not _fair._

“Okay.” He blinks, surprised, and looks up at her. She shrugs her shoulders. “Steven, I… I’m not going to force you to talk about something you don’t want to talk about. But I’m worried. Maybe we should be making time to talk to each other. I _want_ you to be able to talk to me.”

He nods. His eyes are watering and he doesn’t quite understand why. “I-I know. But… but for now, let’s just… sleep?”

He’s probably adding even more stress onto her than he should. But she nods, and she slowly reaches out, careful not to startle him. She takes his hand in hers. “Okay. Let’s sleep. Come back to bed.”

They curl up again and, blessedly, in her arms, sleep comes easier than it usually does on nights like this.

* * *

Breakfast is ready, and Connie is usually up by now if she’s slept at all. Priyanka opens her daughter’s bedroom door to wake her and, as expected, both she and her boyfriend are curled together, snoring softly.

She knew Steven was here. His car parked outside was a dead giveaway when she pulled in last night. Should she be angry that he spent the night without asking her? That they even slept in the same bed? Wait, is… are those  _ Doug’s  _ pajamas that he stopped using almost a decade ago? She debates for a moment, and then she sighs. 

At least they’re sleeping.

**Author's Note:**

> Since this takes place somewhere in the nebulous midst of time between Little Homeschool & Snow Day, I couldn't exactly have Steven open up, because that would resolve his biggest issue. But to be fair, Connie's issues aren't resolved in this fic, either.
> 
> I really wanted to have Steven & Connie parallel each other. They both feel like they can't open up to their respective guardians. Maybe even for similar reasons (in that they both believe their parents will overreact/react awfully, and even though they have evidence to back up those beliefs, it isn't necessarily congruent with how their guardians are now). The difference is that Connie can open up to Steven, but Steven just can't open up to anyone, ever.


End file.
